


Lovers in a Dangerous Time

by minorvariation



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, F/M, Ficlet Collection, Fluff, Humor, Missing Scene, Non-Chronological, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Prompt Fic, Romance, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-27 13:35:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20046889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minorvariation/pseuds/minorvariation
Summary: A collection of between-the-scenes ficlets focused on the romance between Theron Shan and Maia Sunder, a pair of ridiculous galaxy-saving workaholics who - each in their own very different ways - have absolutely no clue how to relationship. Mostly tumblr ask box fills and other little vignettes that don't quite stand alone, set from Forged Alliances onward.





	1. Compromises

**Author's Note:**

> Micro prompt #35: filthy. 
> 
> (Interim between Shadow of Revan and Rise of the Emperor.) It's hard for a Jedi Battlemaster and a Republic SIS field agent to make their schedules line up without making some unusual - and occasionally drastic - compromises.

Theron eyed her across the table, eyebrows raised. “Do I even want to know?”

Though she’d have liked to just collapse into the booth, Maia sighed and stayed on her feet, holding herself with what dignity she could manage - a losing battle, given the state she was in. She felt all too conscious of the sidelong looks and the wide berth the other patrons of the Carrick Station cantina were giving her. 

Not that she could blame them. The smell alone was enough to hold people at arm’s length.

“Rakghoul outbreak on Corellia,” she explained, and saw several heads turning sharply in her peripheral vision. “Don’t worry, I’m verified non-infectious. We were just touching base with the T.H.O.R.N. rep on the station when I got your message.”

“…Right. I did hear something about that.” He was still staring, the look on his face akin to fascination as he took in the rainbow of muck and ichor that had streaked her clothes and the fading crust of luminescent fungus pulp still caked to her boots. “You know,” he said, “I would’ve accepted a rain check.”

Her face heated. Even though she’d spared the handful of seconds to at least wash her face and hands before she’d left the Defender on her way to the T.H.O.R.N. rep’s office, Maia reached up reflexively to scrub an imaginary smear from her cheek with the back of her hand. 

“Sorry,” she said, glancing away in search of anything to look at that wasn’t his face. “That would have made more sense, wouldn’t it? I just…”

Wasn’t thinking, she couldn’t very well say. It was rare enough that their schedules and flight paths intersected since they’d parted ways after Yavin 4. They met when they could, an hour or two here and there for drinks or whatever else they could manage in the time they could wrangle. When his message had come through, the choice between going back to her ship for a sonic shower and a change of clothes or taking the chance to see him again had seemed incontrovertibly clear.

Now, feeling very foolish, she fumbled for some halfway graceful way to apologize for wasting his time and make a quick exit.

“All right,” Theron said, “change of plans.” 

He dropped a credit chip on the table and stood, catching a relatively clean part of her sleeve to pull her along as he started across the cantina. “There’s a couple of suites for visiting bigwigs attached to the VIP lounge. I haven’t been in one before myself, but I have it on good authority the baths are pretty plush.”

Too surprised to balk, Maia blinked at him as he towed her along. “You have access to the VIP lounge?”

Instead of answering, he held up a slicer’s spike between two fingers with a flourish like a stage magician.

“…you’re a terrible influence,” she told him.

“So I’ve heard. You coming or not?”

Trying desperately to smother her incredulous laughter behind her hand, she gave in and let him lead her to the turbolift.


	2. Comfort Food

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Micro prompt #41: comfort food
> 
> (KotET) And yes, _this_ is what these two idiots gave me for “comfort food”.

“Theron.” Maia’s elbow nudged gently against him from behind.

“…Hn?”

The Gravestone hummed along through hyperspace, the ambient noise of the ship’s systems making the only other sound in the compartment they’d claimed, somewhat arbitrarily, as the Commander’s quarters. Theron had a pretty good suspicion of what most of the crew _thought_ was going on behind the closed door, and he was willing to take both the uninterrupted privacy and the compliment to his assumed stamina. 

If anyone had actually dared to look in on him and Maia, though, they’d probably be disappointed. With the adrenaline of battle long since burned out, the two of them sat back to back, propping one another up, in a haze of mutual exhaustion.

She shifted a little against him, reaching into her belt pouch. A moment later something slid over his shoulder. He just barely managed to catch the little package of foil-coated flimsiplast before it dropped into his lap.

“Eat something,” she said.

Theron studied the package for a few fatigue-numb seconds before recognizing it as one of the ration bars from her field kit. “Oh,” he said, the light belatedly coming on in the back of his head. “Calories. Blood sugar. Good idea.”

Her quiet laugh quivered against his back, pausing him in the act of tearing open the wrapper. “What?”

“I was going to say, the act of eating is an affirmation of life.” He couldn’t see her smiling, but he could hear the warmth of it in her soft, weary voice, over the rustling of a second bar being unwrapped. “But yes. Also that.”

Peeling the foil back, he studied the muddy pink color of the compressed bar of nutrients. “Somebody’s an optimist.”

She nudged him again. “Shut up and eat your calories.”

He bit into it, chewed slowly. Slowly was about the only way anyone _could_ chew one of these things; it weighed heavily on his tongue, thick and gummy and faintly gritty with fiber, nominally fruit-flavored depending on your definition of fruit. 

“This is terrible,” he said around the mouthful.

“If you don’t want it,” Maia told him, utterly placid, “give it back.”

Theron chewed a little longer, swallowed. “Not a chance,” he said, and took another bite.


	3. Therapy Boops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sensory prompt #52: exhausted numbness after crying.
> 
> (Fractured Alliances) Maia's not taking the events on Umbara well. Teeseven does what he can.

Maia couldn’t have said how much time passed before the trundle of wheels over the Defender’s floor roused her out of her fugue. She started for a moment, knots of anxiety pulling tight inside her before her eyes focused enough to register the familiar barrel shape of T7-01’s chassis.

“Teeseven.” She deflated back against the side of the holoterminal, letting out a shaky breath. “It’s you.”

T7 let out an inquisitive whistle, rolling towards her where she sat slumped on the floor in the middle of the ship’s empty conference room. Maia shook her head.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she said. “I just… needed to hide for a while.”

The little astromech stopped short. Warbling out another series of beeps, he rolled a few hesitant inches back the way he’d come.

From someplace, she found the energy to summon up a faint smile. “No, you’re fine.” She dragged a hand from her lap to pat the floor next to her. “Keep me company a little while?”

With an enthusiastic trill of agreement, he scooted across the remaining distance to park alongside her. Drawing her legs up underneath her, Maia shifted to drape her arm around T7 and rested her head against the top of the droid’s, letting the metal casing cool her hot face.

The storm of emotions had passed since their return from Umbara. Now she just felt drained, wrung out and exhausted as though even if she’d wanted to cry she’d have no more tears left. The rawness of her eyes and the thick, tight feeling weighing in her sinuses layered over the other aches and twinges that chorused through her every time she moved, legacy of the train crash and the fight through the wreckage afterwards. 

She didn’t mind. Physical pain was something to focus on - a welcome distraction from the sick sensation of the world falling out from under her.

_Did I do this? _

She kept circling back to that thought. There were so many questions chasing round and round through her mind, unanswered, maybe unanswerable: where had it all started? What had she missed? Had they gone wrong somewhere, the two of them, or had it been wrong from the start and she’d just been too blind to realize?

She’d thought that they’d been recovering, that the rift between them after Iokath had begun to heal… but it seemed now that had only been an illusion.

No matter what path she took through memory trying to make sense of the tangled mess she’d landed in, she kept coming back to the same question: _Did I drive him to this?_

“…I don’t know what to do,” she murmured against the scuffed metal of T7’s casing.

The little droid whirred, processing for some moments before he beeped out a hopeful suggestion. _T7 + Jedi = launch now + find Theron + retrieve?_

A quiet noise hitched out of her and caught in her throat, somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “I don’t think it’s going to be that simple this time, little guy.”

T7 swayed a little, head tipping downward, and let out a mournful _dwooo_.

“I know.” Sighing, Maia let her gritty eyes fall closed. Soon, she knew, decisions would have to be made, orders given. The Alliance would have to take action, and the endless movement of the universe wasn’t going to hang suspended while she struggled to regain some fragmentary sense of balance.

But she couldn’t face any of it right now.

Leaning against the faithful support of her oldest friend, she did her best not to think.


	4. A Small Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sensory prompt #29: The smell of burning wood.
> 
> (circa Hearts and Minds - you know the scene) “Why don’t we take a speeder across the canyon, get lost in the woods for a while… have a little adventure, just the two of us?”

Maia broke the surface of the water with a gasp. “Stars, that’s cold!”

Theron laughed. Blinking water from her eyes, she looked toward the sound and found him grinning at her across the beginnings of a flame he’d nursed to life in the firepit they’d dug out before they got… distracted. “Not sure what you were expecting,” he said, “jumping into a spring in the middle of the mountains.”

“All right, fair.” She grinned back at him, then ducked under again just long enough to sweep her hair back out of her face. The breath-stealing cold of the natural spring washed over her, carrying away sweat and fatigue and leaving just the lingering pleasant ache of exertion. “Are you sure you don’t want to join me?” she asked.

He responded with a snort and a quick shake of his head. “No thanks. Not that getting wet and naked with you isn’t always high on my list of priorities…” His eyes traced the refracted shape of her body through the crystal-clear water with a look that had Maia’s skin heating. “…but I’m really more of a hot tub kind of guy.”

It was about the answer she’d expected, but she let out an exaggerated sigh anyway. “Too bad.” Kicking off the bottom of the little pond, she tipped onto her back and let herself float. The Odessen sky overhead was darkening into twilight, a few scattered stars glimmering to life as sunset faded. Chilled as she was, Maia felt sensitized, tingling and hyperconscious of everything around her - the soft chorus of insects humming in the woods around them. The deep green fragrance of the mountain air mingling with the sharp woodsmoke from Theron’s campfire. The Force, flowing through all of it in a steady, inexorable current.

“You don’t know what you’re missing.”

“Oh, I’ve got a pretty good idea,” Theron said dryly. “I’ll pass on your whole adventure in hypothermia. You sure this isn’t some lingering Jedi asceticism thing?”

The word ‘Jedi’ landed like a rock dropped into a still pool, but Maia pushed the twinge of unease aside and rolled over in the water. She dipped under again for a moment, before balance reasserted itself and brought her bobbing back up. “It’s refreshing, that’s all.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

A couple of strokes carried her to the edge of the pond. She folded her arms over the smooth surface of a mostly-submerged boulder and, thus anchored, let the rest of her body float, watching Theron as he fed more sticks into the steadily-growing fire. Its shifting circle of light dyed him shades of red-gold, warm against the gathering shadows. Even from this distance, Maia could just feel its heat brush over her water-chilled face like a promise. 

“You’re really good at that,” she observed, tipping her head to indicate the campfire.

“You could sound a little less surprised.” Despite the complaint, his tone was easy. “That’d be good.”

“Sorry,” she said on an embarrassed laugh. “I didn’t mean… It’s just that I had it in my head that you were too much of an urbanite to enjoy this kind of thing. Getting lost in the woods, and all.” 

He hummed thoughtfully. “Well,” he said, “I’m not planning on building a house out here or anything. And I’d still prefer a hot tub. But since Manaan’s a little too far for a day trip…” 

“More’s the pity.”

“…if it gets us a few hours at a stretch guaranteed free from anyone showing up expecting you to _personally_ fix the problems of the galaxy, I can’t think of a better reason to dust off my SIS wilderness survival training.”

Even immersed in the icy cold of the spring, Maia felt warmth bloom deep within her chest. “I’m glad,” she said. “This was a good idea.”

“I do have them.” 

Theron pushed himself to his feet, took a moment to brush his hands off against his thighs. “Speaking of which–” He snagged a blanket out of the pack of camping supplies they’d brought with them from the base, circling around the firepit towards the spring. “–you need to get out of there before you start turning blue.”

“I’m–” Fine, she’d meant to say, but as soon as she spoke Maia realized her lips were starting to tremble. “–okay, yes. You’re right.”

She took the hand he offered and let him pull her up onto dry ground. Out of the water, her body felt heavy, cleansed but quivering from the sudden bite of the breeze against her wet skin. Then Theron had the blanket around her, bundling her into the fire-warmed fabric. She leaned into it, and him, with a grateful sigh. “Oh, that’s nice.”

“You’re welcome.” He tried for deadpan, but he wasn’t trying very hard. 

Maia laughed quietly and tipped her head back to press a kiss to the angle of his jaw. “Thank you.”

By the time they were settled in at the fireside, she felt suffused with calm, more relaxed than she’d let herself feel in months. Nestled back against Theron’s chest, cocooned in the blanket with his arms around her waist and the heat and comfortable smoky scent of the fire washing over her, she’d temporarily shed the responsibilities and expectations of Alliance Commander. The problems of the galaxy seemed as distant as the stars overhead - more of them every moment as dusk gave way to night, but lightyears away, too far to have any impact.

Closing her eyes, she let the sense of well-being envelop her. “It’s too bad we didn’t think of doing this sooner,” she said, a little wistful. “Missed opportunities.”

Theron tugged her a little closer, lips glancing over her temple before he rested his head against hers. “We’ll just have to make up for lost time.”

“Hmm.” A sudden burst of inspiration had her twisting around, wriggling within his embrace until she could loop her arms around his neck. “I think…” She drew out the word, punctuated it with a playful kiss. “…One of us is wearing too many clothes for that.”

Laughter vibrated through him, low and husky. “Oh, really?” He bent his head to hers, eyes lambent with reflected firelight. “Pretty sure that’s a problem we can solve.”

The next kiss was long and lingering. Pulling him with her, Maia fell back into the bedroll, and the two of them lost themselves in each other again.


	5. Savior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Micro prompt #42: savior.
> 
> (KotFE timeskip) In the midst of rescue planning, Theron questions Lana's motives and his own.

“Tell me something,” he said, somewhere around thirty standard hours awake and counting.

Lana had switched from tea to caf several hours ago. It hadn’t put her in the best of moods. “You’ll need to be more specific,” she said.

Theron briefly considered making a rude gesture, but he was too tired and too busy tracking three different datasets at once to follow through on the impulse. “If it wasn’t all part of your grand plan,” he said, watching the readout flow past, “would you still be doing this?”

“I have no idea what you’re asking.” Her attention stayed fixed on the blueprint she was poring over.

Tension spiked behind his eyes, blurring the lines of text. He slapped the datapad down beside his own half-finished mug of cold caf. “_Maia_.” The name grated in his throat. “I’m talking about Maia.”

Now Lana looked at him, expression cool with warning. “And?”

“I’m asking you if you’d be putting all this into getting back if you weren’t counting on her to lead the charge against Zakuul.”

“I won’t dignify that with a response,” she said, crisp and Imperial.

“Damn it, Lana!” He’d lunged out of his seat before he knew he was moving. “I’m not fucking around here!”

Unable to rein in the frustration that boiled up inside him, Theron stalked away from the worktable, gesturing sharply in the air as he paced the cramped confines of their safehouse. “Can you even imagine what it’s going to be like when we do get her sprung out of wherever they’ve stashed her? ‘Hey, good to see you again. You missed four years–’”

“Likely five, at this rate.”

He shot Lana the most venomous glare he had in him. “‘Almost everybody thinks you’re dead and the galaxy’s gone to shit, so I know you’re probably not feeling too hot right now but we really need you to save us all from the guys who _already killed you once._’”

Some rational part of him knew that he was lashing out, that it wasn’t really Lana he was angry at. Theron was past caring. He needed something to punch at, and if the actual Sith Lord was the only target in range, so be it.

“Have you even thought about what you’re going to do if she says no?” he demanded.

Lana said nothing. She held his gaze calmly, gold eyes unflinching, and in the end Theron was the one who broke. He threw himself back into his chair with a growled curse, because they both understood the truth even if neither one of them spoke it out loud: Maia was never going to say no, and he was relying on that just as much as Lana was.

Hating himself for not being able to find a better way, he retrieved his datapad and got back to work.


End file.
